Clickers III Read online

  Acknowledgements

  Both authors would like to thank Shane Ryan Staley, Mark Sylva, Tod Clark, Joe Maynard, Jim and the staff of Borders Express in Camp Hill, Jim Lewin of The York Emporium, Chet Williamson, David J. Schow, and Mike Lombardo of Reel Splatter Films (for abiding by the restraining order we had sworn out against him).

  J. F. Gonzalez would like to thank his family, the Keenes, Mike Harrell, Jamie LaChance, Michael Lansu and 34th Street Productions, Arlene Ocampo and Sione, and all the staff, volunteers, attendees and fellow Guests of Honor from CONvergence 2009, all of whom graciously allowed Brian to sit in his luxury hotel suite and work on this book when he was supposed to be socializing with all of you in the bar.

  Brian Keene would like to thank his family, the Gonzalez’s, the message board regulars at The Keenedom, the members of the F.U.K.U., and all of the staff, volunteers, attendees and fellow Guests of Honor from CONvergence 2009, all of whom graciously allowed me to sit in my luxury hotel suite and work on this book when I was supposed to be sitting in the bar instead.

  For Del and Sue Howison, who were there at the very beginning of the Clickers saga.

  Excerpt from Reliving the Nightmare by Rick Sycheck

  Page 5, Introduction

  Harper Collins

  Changing my identity and going underground was the furthest thing from my mind when I drove to Phillipsport, Maine to begin what was to be a six-month retreat to write the second novel in my two-book deal with Lion Books.

  After all, I was Rick Sycheck, the “Generation X’s answer to Stephen King.” I had an image to live up to and I’d lived it. Adoring fans. Over four million books in print. Groupies. You name it, I had it.

  At conventions, I was the guy whose hotel suite every-body showed up to for parties. I took over convention panels. I commandeered signings. The old guard in horror and dark fantasy at the time thought I was a raving asshole and, on reflection, they were right. I was young, I had a huge chip on my shoulder and an ego bigger than Mount Rushmore.

  I was not the kind of guy who would go underground and change his identity.

  But I did. When it was apparent that my life, and the life of Melissa Peterson, was in danger, I swallowed my ego whole and shed that old persona the way a snake sheds its skin.

  What you’ll read in this volume will be not only my personal account of the four days I spent in Phillipsport fighting for not only my life, but the life of people who had become friends in a very short period of time, but also how I got there and what I did in the ten long years I became a fugitive. You’ll also read about the circumstances sur-rounding my decision to visit Philadelphia, my hometown, and how, by bad timing or luck, managed to be at ground zero when Hurricane Floyd hit the Mid-Atlantic region and brought the Clickers and the Dark Ones up again.

  RS: You and another Phillipsport resident watched what happened while you were at the Sheriff sub-station. That’s one of the most chilling moments of the Phillipsport incident.

  Sycheck: The whole thing was awful.

  RS: What was the worst moment for you?

  Sycheck: Thinking that we’d made it out of the freezer alive only to be ambushed by Dark Ones as we tried to head out of town. Watching people I’d come to know and love get killed in front of me (Editor’s note: Sycheck and several other people hid for two days in a supermarket freezer during the hurricane and the slaughter).

  Excerpt From Rolling Stone Interview with Rick Sycheck

  Steve Walsh

  Rolling Stone, July/August 2009, Issue 605-606

  RS: Your autobiography is not only a bestseller, it’s your fastest selling title ever. How does it feel to have another book out there in the marketplace?

  Sycheck: It feels great, actually. Of course, in a perfect world none of this shit would have happened and I would have just gone on and write horror and suspense novels for a living.

  RS: You’re very frank in your book about the years leading up to the Phillipsport incident. I got the impression that if that hadn’t happened, you would have either burned out as a literary figure or you would have become a recluse like Kurt Vonnegut.

  Sycheck: To be honest, I was settling down when I went to Phillipsport. Those first four paperback originals I wrote were done during an extreme period in my life. I was in the riptide of my twenties and success came to me early and hard. That deal with Lion books was a very big thing for me because it made me take stock of who I was and what I could achieve. People were paying attention to me. Movie producers were taking note. That first hardcover book Lion published got a write up in the New York Times Book Review. It was time to stop the party and focus on growing my career.

  RS: So where were you headed?

  Sycheck: I wanted a career as a writer of thrillers. I wanted the critical and commercial respect of a Stephen King or a Dan Simmons or a Peter Straub. Those four paperback originals were pure monster-fests, plain and simple. I was a splatterpunk, my whole intention back then was to give you a good read, shake you up, gross you out. My work did that and it did more, too. The hardcover deal I got after the success of the four paperbacks proved that. I had to start taking my career seriously.

  RS: Yet Phillipsport ended that.

  Sycheck: Hell yeah, it did. I was under contract to write a book about a haunted mansion for Lion Books. Sort of a modern day Haunting of Hill House. What I saw at Phillip-sport, what I experienced there…it killed my enthusiasm for wanting to write that book.

  RS: What happened in Phillipsport could have come out of one of your earlier horror novels.

  Sycheck: Absolutely. I mean, here I was, brand new in town, and I run over this…fucking mutant crab-scorpion-lobster thing that was just…it was the weirdest thing I’d ever seen. I crashed my car into a tree after hitting this thing and I hit my head against the steering wheel. I get a prescription to deal with the pain of my injuries and the local Sheriff hassles me. Then more of these things show up and just start rampaging all through town, killing and eating people. I tried to save a family from getting killed. Me and Jack Ripley, the comic book artist, were down at the pier when a bunch of these things just poured out from the ocean and swarmed the beach. I describe all this in the book. It was very much like out of one of my earlier horror novels.

  And the thing about it was it happened so fast! Before I knew it I was locked in a jail cell because the Sheriff had a hard on for me. In retrospect, he did me a favor because if I’d been out there I might have been killed by the Dark Ones.

  RS: You and another Phillipsport resident watched what happened while you were at the Sheriff sub-station. That’s one of the most chilling moments of the Phillipsport incident.

  Sycheck: The whole thing was awful.

  RS: What was the worst moment for you?

  Sycheck: Thinking that we’d made it out of the freezer alive only to be ambushed by Dark Ones as we tried to head out of town. Watching people I’d come to know and love get killed in front of me (Editor’s note: Sycheck and several other people hid for two days in a supermarket freezer during the hurricane and the slaughter).

  Excerpt from Reliving the Nightmare by Rick Sycheck

  Chapter One, Page 12

  Harper Collins

  …so there I am, back in Philadelphia, with my mother dying, freaking out because I’m near the Delaware River! There’s a monster of a storm heading up the Atlantic Sea Coast and all I want to do is fly back to North Dakota and retreat into the anonymity I’d come to think of as normal…

  Excerpt From Rolling Stone Interview with Rick Sycheck

  Steve Walsh

  Rolling Stone, July/August 2009, Issue 605-606

  RS: In the book you describe your feelings at being reunited with Colonel Livingston.

&nbs
p; Sycheck: He and I were just talking about that the other day. Yeah, I was very… scared is the proper word, I think. I’d been calling Livingston for over a decade from various parts of the country to make sure he was still taking the Clickers threat seriously. Thank God he was.

  RS: If it wasn’t for Livingston’s quick thinking and his take-charge command at Peachbottom, a lot more people would have died.

  Sycheck: You’re right, and Livingston had my back the entire time. That’s what’s so cool about him. During all that time he was keeping his information that Melissa and I had gone underground a secret. He never told anybody in the government that I was calling him.

  RS: When the second wave of Clickers and Dark Ones swarmed Baltimore and Washington DC, what did you think would happen?

  Sycheck: I didn’t think they would attack on such a grand scale. My whole thing was getting out of there, getting as far away from the east coast as possible. That didn’t happen, and by circumstance I wound up with Livingston and his team, along with Dr. Wasco and Dr. Linnemberg of the Baltimore Aquarium. We met up on the road, right before we all ended up at the Peachbottom nuclear power plant.

  RS: What were your feelings when you heard President Tyler had been killed? You don’t really talk about him that much in your book.

  Sycheck: (pause) I didn’t mention my feelings in the book because I didn’t want to sound like some kind of asshole but…to be truthful…I was glad. So much of this could have been avoided if Tyler had used his head and listened to the leading scientific experts instead of relying on his religious beliefs to guide him.

  RS: Do you believe that was the reason for Livingston’s winning the election?

  Sycheck: I think that’s a big part of it. The people had a clear choice this time. Vote for the party that believes the earth was created ten thousand years ago and that people lived with dinosaurs, or vote for the party that listens to what Mother Nature is telling us, the party that takes science seriously, because we need to if we want to ensure our survival as a species.

  Excerpt from Reliving the Nightmare by Rick Sycheck

  Chapter Seventeen, Page 241

  Harper Collins

  Twelve years of time does a lot to a man. In my case, and thanks to my circumstances, it had changed me from a relatively healthy man to a guy who was paranoid, who’d developed a three pack a day smoking habit, a man who’d rekindled a hardcore drinking problem and who had trouble maintaining a steady relationship. The Rick Sycheck of 1994 would have had no problem joining in the fight with Livingston and the others. In fact, he would have readily joined up. The Rick Sycheck of 2006, though, was worn out and tired. The only reason he grew balls and fought back was because his back was against the wall.

  I remember when the thought hit me that we were probably going to die down there. We had locked ourselves in one of the sub-basement rooms in the Peachbottom nuclear plant and had beaten back a bunch of Dark Ones that had stormed the place. I remember thinking that even with as many weapons as we’d taken, we wouldn’t have enough fire power to kill them or hold our own until help arrived. Eventually we’d run out of bullets. And then where would we be?

  And as this thought entered my mind I thought back to the news conference I’d seen with President Tyler, and how that smarmy bastard told the American people to not believe the leading scientific experts, that he and his Administration would get a handle on things! If you’re reading this you obviously remember that press conference. I’m sure you couldn’t believe it either.

  It angered me.

  How dare that imbecile deny what was happening, and then demand that the rest of us just stick our heads in the sand?

  I was beyond angry. I was furious.

  It was that anger that propelled me to pick up my firearm and step through the shattered door of what had been our refuge. A giant Clicker had just entered the hall and was fifty yards away. It was so big, its massive form squeezed into the hallway, its shell scraping against the walls and ceiling. I walked straight toward it and aimed my weapon as Colonel Livingston raced after me, pleading for me to stop. But I didn’t. I kept going. And that giant Clicker kept coming at me, and when I was about twenty yards from it I started firing. I didn’t care if it killed me. I had one mission.

  To kill it, yes. But there was something else, too.

  In my mind, I was killing President Tyler by proxy. I was unleashing my fury and rage at him for allowing this to happen and not doing a goddamn thing to stop it.

  Excerpt from Rolling Stone Interview with Rick Sycheck

  Steve Walsh

  Rolling Stone, July/August 2009, Issue 605-606

  RS: “What do you think about the recent theory that President Tyler was shot before he was killed by the Dark Ones?”

  Sycheck: “Well, anything’s possible. It was pretty chaotic that night. We went through all kinds of hell those few days and I’m still trying to get over it. The way I understand it there was some chaos at the White House during the storm, so I think it’s possible he was shot.”

  RS: “Do you think there’s another government cover-up?”

  Sycheck: “Of the Clickers and Dark Ones? How could there be? The world pretty much saw them with their own eyes. I mean, they were on every television channel. Every website.”

  RS: “The cover-up I’m referring to would be the one the RNC is alleging the Livingston Administration is participating in. Trying to cover up the events surrounding President Tyler’s death.”

  Sycheck: “Well…I wasn’t at the White House that night. And again, there was so much confusion that it’s possible he was shot before he ran into those underground bunkers. Anything could have happened.”

  RS: “Including the theory that he was shot by a still-unidentified Secret Service Agent?”

  Sycheck: “Yes.”

  Excerpt from Reliving the Nightmare by Rick Sycheck

  Chapter Twenty, Page 323

  Harper Collins

  In the weeks that followed the devastation, humanity waged war, chasing the Clickers into their watery depths and destroying them. Likewise, the Dark Ones were similarly slaughtered. A task force composed of various branches of the US Armed Forces (including Navy Seals), marine biologists and other scientists and personnel were formed by President Livingston to kill these things. Since its inception, they have helped eliminate Clickers and Dark Ones to the point where they are now extinct.

  Yes, you’ve read that right. Extinct.

  Recent fossil discoveries have suggested these creatures lived in all parts of the globe some five hundred million years ago, according to Dr. Edward Page of Boston University. This new extinction team and dozens of others have tracked and killed Clickers and Dark Ones in the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans.

  How we managed to wipe them out once and for all is nothing short of brilliant military planning on behalf of Colonel Richrath (Retired) and President Livingston, as well as a new team of experts handpicked by Livingston when he entered office. As the first item on his agenda, it was President Livingston’s ambition to eliminate the threat once and for all. He consulted with the best and brightest marine biologists, paleontologists, and zoologists. He also consulted with the best military experts he could assemble. And then he set his plan into action. Thanks to their bold move, we knew where the Dark Ones were coming from. We also knew where the Clickers watery domains were. Using a combination of military and marine tracking, the Clickers and Dark Ones were hunted down and eliminated.

  The threat is now over. For good. Yet despite that, I don’t think I can live near a large body of water ever again.

  When the crab darted toward her, Doctor Jennifer Wasco threw back her head and laughed. Her shoulders and breasts shook slightly. Her long auburn hair, usually tied up in a knot during the workday, draped down her back and dangled in the sand. The crab paused, as if surprised by her amused reaction. It raised its claws and waved them in the air. The last rays of the setting sun glinted off them for a moment.

&nb
sp; “You’re not scary,” Jennifer said. “Your big brothers, maybe, but not you.”

  The crab, no bigger than a teacup, slowly lowered its appendages and skittered away, giving Jennifer a wide berth before slinking off behind her.

  Doctor Bunn is right, she thought. I must be doing better. Six months ago, the sight of that little guy would have been enough to send me screaming. But not anymore. I’m fine. No more post traumatic stress disorder for me. After all, who ever heard of a marine biologist and expert aquatic researcher who’s afraid of sea life?

  A slight breeze drifted off the ocean and whispered across the beach. Jennifer closed her eyes and sighed. The air tasted of salt. It reminded her of summer vacations spent at Ocean City, Maryland, when she was a child— playing in the sand, swimming in the ocean, exploring the boardwalk, feeding quarters into the skee ball machines and video games at the arcade, riding the roller coaster and screaming all the way through the haunted house ride. Smiling, she kept her eyes closed and breathed deep. For a moment, she could also smell those times—suntan oil and seaweed, cotton candy and saltwater taffy, Bricker’s French fries and Italian sausage subs.

  She missed those times. Life had been a lot simpler back then.

  Gulls circled and shrieked overhead, fighting with one another. Annoyed, Jennifer opened her eyes and glared at them. A few stars were already visible in the murky blue-black sky, but the sun hovered on the edge of the horizon, slowly sinking into the sea in a haze of red and orange and yellow. The waves rolled steadily onto the beach, their lulling roar comforting and serene.